


Right On Time

by IrisClou



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, M/M, hey this is just that fic you read to cry, it does have....an almost happy ending., itll make you smile, pick your favorite sad nart track and go for it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 18:55:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20935103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrisClou/pseuds/IrisClou
Summary: It's time for them to say goodbye.They're shinobi. Goodbyes happened every day.So why isn't it easy this time?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this like. a few months ago and then completely forgot to post it.
> 
> oops

Death was no stranger to the shinobi world by any means, and those who partook in it. 

But when the wars were over, and the peace had come for countless years, it seemed as though death should have died with the strife. 

Iruka had counted every wrinkle with joy, and aged beautifully as the decades fell away like pages from an exquisite book, ever smiling in the mirror at Kakashi's side. 

The mornings never felt impossible, with him to wake up to, even if his old bones fought him, and his hands shook uncontrollably at times. Kakashi was ever-patient, his voice low and gruff with fondness as he would button every button with his pale hands, the far away gaze of pride in Iruka's eyes all it took for the wizened jounin to know he still had the blood of a shinobi coursing through him -- his uniform was a matter of honor, of legacy to him now. 

Kakashi's throat would tighten, watching Iruka struggle at times with things that had been so simple only a few years back. How frustrated and quiet he would get, trying to straighten his headband, and his hands simply wouldn't cooperate. It was a ritual so sacred to him, Kakashi almost felt wrong to silently offer steadier hands. 

The disease had only begun to show in his father by the time of his death. That was the only trouble with not dying young. 

The one phrase Kakashi never heard from his beloved's mouth, though it rung bitterly through the air everywhere they went, was "The youth is wasted on the young." 

His days of being Headmaster had long past, but Iruka was always drawn back to the academy, the building having gone through many renovations as technology raced in leaps and bounds towards an entirely electronic future. 

"I just never get tired of seeing those kids." He'd laugh Kakashi's favorite laugh (which was all of them, of course), "The world may have changed, but the children will remain the brightest part of it."

Iruka had a habit of repeating himself nowadays as well, as if it never was heard the first time. Or maybe it was because he couldn't remember. 

Kakashi had seen Iruka scared many times as they grew up together, though the man was intent on showing it as little as possible, or at least with dignity. But now, the fear was a shadow that plagued him in paranoid silence. 

Iruka had always been an avid storyteller, a writer. But now, with his memory fading at a terrifying rate and his hands his own worst enemy, there was something dulling in his beautiful hazel eyes. It was the one thing Kakashi had vowed to keep at bay for as long as he could. To delay the inevitable. 

His days of writing were not over, and though he was not keen on some of the newest tech nowadays, it did help, being able to speak into a little receiver, and watching his words come to life on screen. 

Kakashi at times would chuckle to himself as Iruka would be heard speaking in the next room, and then stop, mumbling, and begin to argue with the thing, which led to _ those _words being recorded as well. His "sensei" voice could be heard briefly before he'd shuffle into the room where Kakashi was, grumbling about how technology these days was beyond him. 

Iruka usually resorted to those steady hands again and again. Kakashi loved nothing more than the days Iruka would dictate to him, even though in the end, he knew it was a feeble attempt to remember his fading past. 

There were good days and bad days. There were wonderful days, and the worst days. 

They say pain eases with time, but Kakashi found this untrue at the sight of Iruka standing motionless at the bookcase, his hands shaking as he reached out for the photo album. 

He would take it solemnly, breath hitching in his throat. Trembling thumbs brushing the cover reverently, before he would take it, like a cherished child to the tea table, settling slowly down on his knees to open it. 

The tears would fall before the first page was even turned. Kakashi had it laminated many, many years ago, just for that reason. 

Iruka did not cry like he used to as a child, or even as a young adult, with reckless abandon. The ocean was restrained once he had become an old man. 

Kakashi's knife would slip into his knuckles at the sound of the sharp inhale from the other room, sticky and shivering. Iruka would simply sit and take deep breaths, crows feet catching every crystalline tear that fell as quivering fingers traced over his dearest friends and family. 

The knife clattered to the floor, bleeding knuckles forgotten at the tiniest whimper that escaped Iruka as he turned to _ that _ page. 

_ Tsubaki. _

It was never easy for Kakashi to see an old man cry, but when it was  his  Iruka, hearing that one faint sob, was all it took for him to come running. 


	2. Chapter 2

Iruka would be seen, huddled up, ever shaking hand held to his forehead as he forced himself to smile, though it looked more like a tight grimace of pain. 

His beloved wife, Tsubaki, had passed a decade earlier, much before her time. 

Sakura had comforted him personally for months afterwards, and he always greeted her with a smile, despite it all. He had utter faith in her healing abilities, and no matter what she told him, especially along the lines of "these things happen...she was needed somewhere else." Felt so hollow to say for her. 

Iruka never asked what it was. Only to be reassured she had, in fact, passed away peacefully in his arms. It was cathartic for him, to feel her last breaths in his ear, for her chest to grow still, and her body relax entirely as her heart stopped, her last whispered words of "I love you, take care of him while I wait for you." the most precious sound to him, his strong arms cradling her lifeless form. 

Kakashi had never openly wept in front of Sakura before, until that day outside of the hospice room. 

But when he heard Iruka's voice rise up in song, deep in his chest, the steadiest it would ever be, as his hands would soon come to fail him...He broke down, biting sharply at his knuckles, so as not to disturb the sacred hymn. 

Sakura took him lovingly into her arms, kissing the hot tears from his cheek, kind hands stroking his hair, murmuring "Oh, Sensei…" into his ear as he clutched her, body stiff and trembling. 

She had been  _ his  _ wife too. As much as they'd bickered and teased one another about marrying the same man, he had loved her just as much. She had been a light in his life he never knew he had needed, nor did he think he ever deserved. 

Iruka's voice never faltered. He would not let it. This was his way of sending her to the other side, to guide her, his warm fingers laced in her cold ones, so she would not get lost. 

His words would fall into hushed whispers, but not once did it break. 

He had always been a religious man, though it was a private partaking for him. There were many things that his hope stemmed from, and a small black book at his side was one of them. 

Tsubaki knew no strife now, no pain, every tear brushed away. Of this, he was certain. 

He spent the night by her side, telling her stories as though she had never left. He'd even stay silent at times, imagining her voice in response.

The hardest nights where those where he whispered her name again and again, as if he were searching for her in his dreams. 

-

Kakashi would step into the tearoom, bloody hand clumsily wrapped in a dishcloth, and see Iruka finally turn the page, his tears no longer bitter. 

The baby pictures. Pages, and pages of baby pictures. 

Kakashi had gladly played Sukea's part many,  _ many _ a time to humor Iruka, and their children as well. 

Kaguya had been the first. A sullen little girl, Tsubaki's firstborn, who had been given up to the orphanage when Mizuki, the unworthy father, had threatened Tsubaki. 

Iruka had found her one day on the Academy playground, and an emotional reunion soon blessed mother and daughter. 

Kaguya was an oddball, with night sky eyes and moonlight hair, she had met the Koubi while wandering the forests as a child. Sensing the girl had greatness within, the beast made his chakra with her own. 

Iruka, a humble man of humble origins, had had enough of jinchuuriki, having practically raised Naruto -- but it seemed his luck simply never ran out in that respect. 

Kaguya had grown into a beautiful young maiden, full of quiet gratitude for her parents. She had resigned her remaining days in the deepest parts of the Konohagakure forests, guarding the most sacred areas with the power of the five-tails. 

But, of course, children were drawn to Iruka just as much as he was to them. The pitter patter of little ones' feet kept the house lively for many years. 

Nami was one of Iruka's most beloved students, all of six years old when her parents, very close friends of Iruka, were killed in an ANBU mission. He and Kakashi's relationship had just budded, and in that moment, they knew that any differences they had left would be put away to raise this child as their own.

She grew up spirited and fiery, as Uzumaki women were want to do, and she held on tightly to Kakashi's sense of unfailing loyalty. Nami was now a prolific jounin, though such things were dying out nowadays. She was the right hand guard of the current Hokage -- her little brother. 

Azarashi Umino was the fourth child to enter the household, his adopted brother Mitsuki arriving just a year earlier. The latter had been rescued from the clutches of Oorochimaru, and his tumultuous infancy was kept secret. 

Iruka's firstborn son was the man's greatest pride and joy. 

Kakashi could not help but smile at the memory of that day in the maternity ward, Iruka flying through the door into the waiting room, bawling his eyes out and nigh  _ tackling  _ his husband, a stream of "it's a boy -- a healthy little boy!" Tumbling from his sweetly salted lips. 

Named for Iruka's late infant sister, Azarashi was a strong and headstrong child, robust and full of love and life. 

Though he was stubborn and willful at times, and frequently outspoken, he had an unshakable sense of honor and faith in the Will of Fire. Despite Iruka urging to seek other paths in life, he was hellbent on becoming a shinobi like his fathers, much to the dismay of his mother, who was more than ready to move on from that lifestyle. She of course, never dissuaded him from his dreams, and encouraged him to work his hardest. 

Azarashi had been assigned Rock Lee for his jounin-genin group -- so hard work was exactly what he endured for many a year. 

The ninth Hokage, Konohamaru Sarutobi saw how beloved and driven the young man had become, personally took him under his wing. 

Azarashi Umino became the tenth hokage of Konohagakure.

But before all of this, the most beloved of all children--though Iruka would be loathe to admit it to anyone but Kakashi--was adopted. 

Naruto Uzumaki. 

It was, in fact, an impromptu proposal. 


	3. Chapter 3

At Naruto and Hinata's wedding, Kakashi had quietly taken Iruka aside, to the old sakura tree, hidden away from the crowds. A single golden ring was slipped onto Iruka's finger, followed by a tender kiss. No words had to be exchanged. It had been a long time coming. 

However, Iruka had that stubborn Umino blood. He wasn't about to make it a competition, but he wasn't about to let Kakashi have the last say either. 

The next day, Iruka had dragged Kakashi to the Hokage's office, and presented him with the adoption papers he had kept, that had grown yellow and dog eared after nearly a decade. 

It wasn't...truly possible to get married in the social environment at the time, though Lady Tsunade argued she'd throw the whole damn party herself (Iruka hastily turned her down, albeit politely), so Iruka settled on something just as meaningful: adopting the boy who had brought the couple together in the first place. 

Five children. 

  
Iruka toyed with the idea of six, but decided against it. Tsubaki looked ready to kill him as it was -- with Mitsuki being toted as her and _ Kakashi's _child, just so it remained secret his origins.

-

Kakashi would sit down with Iruka as the tears subsided, and his husband grew tired. 

Lunch forgotten, the pair would crawl into bed together, laying back, eyes closed, Iruka's smiling face tucked perfectly into the crook of Kakashi's neck, where it belonged. 

Though the original ninken pack Kakashi had long since passed, Bisuke IV would always weasel his way between their legs, sighing a dog sigh as the couple easily drifted off in one another's embrace. 

-


	4. Chapter 4

** [[bgm]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xWJEEF8GVZw) **

Kakashi's death was not sudden.

But it was quiet. Very quiet. 

Kakashi had met death many times, once even walking with him. He knew his time had come, though a younger version of himself would have been surprised to know it came without struggle. 

The stars brought him great comfort, for this would be the last time he would see them from below. 

The last time the pair would sit on the roof together, the radio crackling beside them, like the voice of an old friend. 

They spoke for many hours, through the night and into the early dawn, hands intertwined. 

Once their lungs had their fill of the sweet spring air, their weary eyes reflecting the stars, their lips lingering tenderly on one another's, smiles their only interruption, the old lovers finally rose to their feet. 

A little balcony had been built on the roof, at Iruka's request many years back. 

On which would be their final dance. 

It did not take long for Iruka to realize Kakashi's heart was growing weak, as they held one another, the waltz to be the last rhythm his dear husband would know. 

But Iruka was determined this not be a sad parting. His voice rang out sonorously, bright and full of life, as to ward off the inevitable for just a little while longer. He sang, and sang, face aglow like the sun had risen across his aged features, and he stepped gingerly, never once the smile fading from his lips. 

After all the pain Kakashi had known, Iruka devoted his life to returning him nothing but goodness tenfold. 

They danced, and danced, laughing as tears spilled down their cheeks, until Iruka held him close, the ocean unable to be kept at bay any longer.

He wept. He wept with laughter, kissing fervently at Kakashi's lips and face, his own heart fit to burst. 

"Darling…" He whispered, voice breaking, "You look...magnificent." 

Kakashi smiled, grey eyes shimmering in the dawn light. 

"And you, like the day we were married." He brushed his thumb over Iruka's wedding ring. 

"You promise to be patient for me?" Iruka said softly, as if he were simply going to be late coming home from work. 

Kakashi puffed a laugh, shaking his head.

"Don't be in a hurry to follow. That's all I ask." The last part was spoken between shaky inhales, the tears stinging the corners of his eyes. 

Iruka nodded once. 

"Someone has to tell Naruto." He smiled, calmly. "There's no sense in lingering, Sensei." He left a gentle kiss on his husband's cheek. "Let's go now." 

  
\--

The tree was ancient. The swing had rotted away many years ago, but had been rebuilt with a stronger wood in an equally plain fashion as the original. 

Most importantly, the marks were still embedded into the bark. 

Three foot six. 

Four foot five.

Four foot nine. 

Five foot. 

Five foot four.

Five foot nine. 

Six foot. 

And there, they ended. But many little hashmarks studded between the lines, where Kakashi, Tsubaki, and Iruka would record their children's heights through the years. 

They stood silently beside the tree, Iruka's trembling hands cradling Kakashi's temples as their foreheads touched. The most sacred technique passed down only in the Yamanaka clan had been gifted to Iruka by Inoichi in his waning years allowed the couple to share their thoughts and emotions without speaking a single word.

They relived every day they had spent with Naruto in only about an hour's time, smiles and tears coming and going as the memories poured out into a pool of paternal love, eyes closed to make the images and sounds brighter. 

Once they had raised up their gratitude for the boy that had brought them together and united the world in peace, they held one another for an equally long time. 

They revisited many of their childhood haunts, but by nightfall, Kakashi's time had come. 

They stopped at the old bench that had sat for many, many years under the old sakura. 

No more words. They both knew none were strong enough for this. 

They eased themselves down, holding hands and simply resting against one another. 

Iruka was not prepared for the squeeze of his hand in Kakashi's. 

"Stay as long as you'd like, Iruka." He whispered. "I have...a lot of visiting to do, anyway." He chuckled. 

Iruka simply stared at him, knowing it would be the last smile he'd see. 

"I love you." He sobbed, his emotions strangling anything else he could have wanted to say. 

Kakashi gave him a soft laugh, beaming back at him. 

"I love you, too." 

\--

"Tell Naruto…" Kakashi breathed in Iruka's scent one last time as they had settled beside the Memorial stone. "That even though he's older, he still needs to eat his damn vegetables." 

Iruka couldn't help but laugh, scolding him for wasting his breath saying foolish things that should have come from his own mouth. 

"I'm very tired." Kakashi murmured softly, nuzzling into Iruka's neck, relishing the warmth. "And I love you." 

"I love you, too, Sensei." Iruka kissed his forehead. "I'm tired as well." 

Their silence was not mournful, and it was not bitter. 

It was tears of relief that Iruka wept as the hand in his grew slack, and a new morning star rose in the twilight, shining directly above the monument. 

Iruka could not look down as Kakashi sighed his last. He could not bear to see his best friend, though he had left him with a smile on his lips. 

He held his head up high, just as his father told him to. Only the stars saw his tears fall. 

Though, through the stained glass vision, he did see two children appear between the folds of twilight, the shimmering rainbow bands radiating around them. 

They smiled up at him as they came forward. One boy, and one girl. 

The girl sat beside him, and the boy sat beside Kakashi. 

Iruka knew Rin and Obito had come for their oldest friend. He smiled back at them. 


	5. Chapter 5

Iruka carried Kakashi back home that night, the walk difficult, but it was one he knew he would have to take. 

He prepared the sitting room slowly and diligently for him, laying him down on the soft blanket. 

He sealed his cold body, and sat in vigil for three days straight. 

On the final day, he made the call to Naruto.

The funeral was a blur to him, and even with Sakura and Sasuke's help, the eulogy felt distant on his tongue. 

It was the grave in which he found comfort. 

And every day, he would cut a single sunflower and bring it to the beautiful white stone. He was meticulous about keeping it pristine, and often would be found washing it, even in the rain. 

Exactly thirty four days later, Iruka Umino was found sitting peacefully beside the grave, his eyes closed, and a smile on his lips. 

Naruto had been on his way to visit Kakashi's grave with him, when he realized something wasn't right. Iruka did not come to greet him, or even look up from where he sat when his old student called to him.

"Iruka-Sensei…" Naruto's face grew taut with grief as he pulled the man's lifeless form into his arms, the skin cool to the touch, kissing his temple with trembling lips. "Don't...don't go…" 

"...Iruka...Sensei…" 


	6. Chapter 6

"I don't even have an excuse for being late this time." Iruka laughed, seeing Kakashi perched on his favorite tree branch,  _ Icha Icha  _ in hand. "You weren't there this morning to pull me back into bed." 

Kakashi gave him a look, then a wan smile. 

"You're right on time, Sensei." The white haired man put down the book, slipping it into his pocket. 

They saw one another just as they wanted to -- the day they met at the bench under the sakura. 

Their bodies young and unblemished. 

"We were just early." Tsubaki appeared from behind the tree, smiling warmly. 

Iruka nodded once, eyes closing as a bright grin crossed his face. 

But the tears never came. 

And they never did again. 


End file.
